XAVIER'S POV
I looked at the unopened packet of cigarettes in my drawer and walked away from it. I hadn't smoked in days, and it wasn't like I was addicted. I just wanted to feel that sense of not caring for once. I knew I had to stop. Cigarettes were like a slow poison. A dangerous one that infuses your veins slowly but doesn't forget to kill you.
It was one of the main reasons I had picked up smoking. But not that wasn't a need. I didn't want to die, did I?
No, I wanted to live.
Then what was this feeling?
It wasn't doubt, alone. Sure, I was scare- Yeah, this was fear. I was scared. And, I don't know if I was ready to admit that.
I got up from my bed again and walked towards the drawer, knowing that this was wrong. I picked out a single cigarette from the pack and glanced at my window. I couldn't smoke here. There was a high chance of my mum walking in. But it was already five in the evening and the air outside was cold.
